Free How to Please a Lady by Jane Goodger

a thrill. He never looked at her like that again, because she suspected he knew even more than she how impossible it would be to bridge the gap of their birth. But he was always kind.
    And how had she repaid his kindness? By threatening to dismiss him. What a wretched person she was.
    She was about to climb up the shallow steps to the veranda, but turned around and headed back to the stable to apologize. She might not have a chance to see him again before he left; it would be terrible to have him go with this between them. When she entered the stable, she saw him throwing great forkfuls of hay into one of the stalls. It was a job the head groom usually assigned to an underling, but Charlie was undertaking the task with ferocity, his shirt clinging to him, his curling blond hair dark along the edges from sweat.
    â€œCharlie.” He shoveled another great bit of straw, then stopped, his back toward her, heaving from the exertion of his work.
    He turned his head slightly. “Yes, my lady.”
    Impertinent and not at all like him. He was angry, she could tell.
    â€œI came back to apologize.”
    Rose bit her lip and watched as he slowly turned around. “Thank you.”
    A good and meek servant would have bowed and insisted there was no need to apologize, but though Charlie was a good servant, he’d never been meek. He looked at her, his blue eyes dark, and wiped the curls away from his forehead, revealing his strong brow.
    â€œWill that be all?” he asked.
    Rose swallowed. “Yes. No. Oh, Charlie, I won’t be able to bear it if I know you are angry with me.”
    He sagged a bit, leaning on the pitchfork. “I could never be angry with you. I am angry with what happened. I’m angry I can’t hurt the cur for what he did to you. I’m angry because you will marry him and you will likely be unhappy for the rest of your life. And there is nothing I can do about it. I’m angry because I am powerless to help you. I’m so angry, my lady, I can hardly breathe.”
    â€œOh.”
    â€œAnd I’m angry that you . . . that I . . .” He let out a breath.
    â€œYou’re quite angry, Charlie,” Rose said, letting out a small laugh.
    â€œYes. But not with you, my lady. Do you understand?”
    Rose nodded, feeling worlds better. “You look tired, Charlie. When did you last sleep?”
    He gave her a smile. “Two days ago.”
    â€œI order you to bed. I can still do that, you know. You haven’t left for America yet.”
    â€œYes, my lady,” he said, giving her a small bow.
    Rose turned to go. “Have a good rest, Charlie.” She walked back to the house, her spirits slightly higher, but the closer she got, the worse she felt. His Grace would be in their house, for she had not seen him leave and his horse was still in the stable. Would he stay to dine with them? She prayed not, even though they had invited him. Just the thought of trying to be pleasant to the man was enough to make her want to run away. For a fleeting moment, she pictured herself climbing into a carriage and telling the driver to go, go anywhere. To Scotland, anywhere far away. It was a wonderful image, but one as foolish as it was impossible.
    She would marry the duke.
    Â 
    â€œI can’t marry the duke.” This she announced to her mother five minutes before they were scheduled to go down to dine. She might have said “the sky is blue” for the reaction her mother gave her. “Did you hear me, Mother?”
    â€œI’m glad you stopped in before luncheon, dear. I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Avery.”
    â€œCharlie?”
    Her mother gave her a tight smile. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. He is a servant, not a friend. You are to call him either Mr. Avery or groom, certainly not by his given name. His Grace mentioned that he thought you were a bit too familiar with Mr. Avery and I can now understand his